Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3

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Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 Page 11

by Ramona Flightner


  “Good. Now you must determine what it is you do want.”

  “I want to find my baby,” she said in a whisper, barely giving voice to her words.

  “What was that, dear?” Sophie asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Savannah cleared her voice and spoke in a firm voice. “I want to find my baby.”

  Sophie smiled triumphantly. “Very good. You must continue to voice your desires, Savannah. As for finding your daughter, I have begun to make inquiries on your behalf. However, you should do whatever you deem necessary to find her.”

  “Thank you for your help, Sophie.”

  Sophie nodded. “I want to see you flourish, my dear.”

  ***

  “HELLO, FLORENCE,” Savannah said after Florence inched open the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt your day.”

  “Nonsense. I’m baking bread, and it’s a tedious process. You can keep me company.” She smiled as she led Savannah toward the back room. The smell of yeast and flour permeated the air, and the dining room table, turned into a workspace, was covered in flour. The far end of the table had mounds covered by a cloth.

  “Could I help you?” Savannah asked, as she took off her hat and gloves. “I used to love to bake.”

  “Really? I would have thought you’d always have a cook.”

  “We did. She was a lovely woman from Scotland, Mrs. McDuffie. She made the best breads. I loved spending time with her. Thought my mother would be delighted that I was learning to cook.”

  “I gather she wasn’t.” Florence handed Savannah the bowl with the other half of the dough to be kneaded. Savannah covered her hands in flour and leaned into the dough.

  “No, she wasn’t. When I told her at dinner one evening that I had made the bread we were eating, I thought my mother would faint. I was sent from the table with no dinner and told I was never to enter the kitchen again, unless requesting food.”

  “What did your father say?”

  “He was proud of me. But, as in most things, he allowed my mother to determine what was proper for my upbringing.”

  “Did you never want to cook again?”

  “I missed the stories Mrs. McDuffie told. Wild stories about growing up in Scotland among a large family. She only moved to Boston because she was number three of sixteen, and she had hoped she’d be able to earn some money to send home.

  “And I missed the cooking. Even when I was young, my mother had a strict idea of what I was to do and not do. She believed there were certain activities that were beneath me, and cooking was one of them.”

  “Does Mrs. McDuffie still cook your favorite meals when you visit your parents?”

  “Oh, no. She … left my parents’ employ a few weeks after I was barred from the kitchen.”

  “That’s horrible,” Florence whispered.

  “Thankfully she began to cook for a prominent businessman, a bachelor. And now she has a cook while she entertains in his drawing room.”

  Florence watched her with serious eyes. “You learned your lesson well, though, didn’t you? Do what your mother wants or the consequences will affect more than just you.”

  “Yes, well, you can see where that got me.” She swiped at her cheek, smearing it with flour.

  “Married to a maniac with a penchant for brutality,” Florence said with a shake of her head.

  “She still wants me to return to him. To uphold the family’s honor by sacrificing myself.” She punched the bread dough and leaned in to knead it with all her pent-up fury.

  Florence stopped kneading for a moment to stare at Savannah. “But you won’t. Tell me you will never return to that man.”

  “No, I won’t. I can’t. No matter how much my mother says it is hurting the family and the business, I can’t.”

  “They’re adults. They can manage without having you harmed in the process,” Florence said as she slapped the dough with renewed vigor. She blew a huff of air, blowing a strand of curly black hair out of her eyes. “If I knead this anymore, we won’t be able to chew it.” She turned, found two clean cloths, handed one to Savannah, and they covered their loaves to rise.

  “How is Mr. McLeod?” Savannah asked after she had settled on the couch with a glass of water.

  “If you mean Jeremy, he’s better each day. His business continues to grow, although I know he wishes Gabriel were here to help him. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have Gabriel and Clarissa home?” Florence smiled wistfully.

  “I doubt Rissa would want to come back. From what I understand, she likes her life out there. Not nearly as restrictive as life here.”

  “Yes, and it seems Gabriel has fallen in love with the outdoors. It does seem hard to imagine him enjoying horseback riding.”

  Savannah giggled at the thought. “Hmm … although I bet he’s a handsome sight.”

  She and Florence shared a laugh before Savannah sobered. “Do you think you and Mr. McLeod would be able to help me find my little girl? I can’t imagine traveling to the orphanages alone.”

  “I’ll help you in any way I can, Savannah. I’m sure Jeremy feels the same, although he might not have as much freedom with the new commissions he’s receiving.”

  “Thank you, Florence. You don’t know what it means to have your friendship.”

  “Is it really true that no one in your family believes that Jonas took your baby?”

  “My aunt Betsy does. I’ve never spoken with my father or brother about it. I used to worry they’d believe as my mother, but I’ve begun to wonder if that’s fair to them. I plan on visiting my father tomorrow at the store, and I will hopefully see Lucas too.” She sighed. “I dread going there. My mother is irate and would bar me from setting foot in the store if possible. I must hope she’s absent during my visit.”

  ***

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, Savannah opened the door to her parents’ fine linen store, Russell’s, and maneuvered her way around milling patrons. She smiled at Lucas who stood behind the counter and walked toward the back area to enter her father’s office, a small rectangular room behind the main storefront. Her father sat at his desk in a comfortable swivel chair, head bowed over piles of papers. He appeared busy, adding up the books and reviewing receipts. He glanced up, frowning for a moment as he saw someone in the doorway, but his expression lightened as he beheld Savannah.

  Upon seeing her, he stood, moved from behind the desk and enfolded her in his strong arms. “Ah, my Savannah,” he murmured as he held her. After a few minutes, he released her, cupping her face for a moment as he studied her closely. She settled in a chair in front of his desk while he shut the door and then returned to his seat.

  “I’m happy to see you looking healthy,” he said as he watched her, frowning as she wiped away tears. “It’s been two nearly months since you left Jonas’s home in mid-June. Are you sure you are well?”

  “Yes, Father. I’m finally well again.” She sniffled into a handkerchief and smiled weakly.

  “You are safe now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother told me that you were concocting wild tales of abuse in an attempt to instill sympathy.”

  “I spoke only the truth,” Savannah said.

  “That’s what terrifies me,” he whispered.

  A knock sounded an instant before Lucas opened the door. “Hi, Sav. Great to have you back! But you need to know, Mother’s home, and she’s heard you’re here.”

  Martin closed his eyes for a moment before firming his shoulders for the battle to come. “My daughter has every right to visit me,” he snapped at Lucas.

  “Father,” Savannah said as she rose. Martin stood and rounded his desk to stand in front of her. “I’ll leave because I can only imagine how difficult life already is with Mother. What matters is that you would have fought for me. Thank you.” She leaned forward for a short embrace before moving toward Lucas and the doorway to the store.

  “May I visit you at Mrs. Chickering’s?” her father asked as he followed them into the store.

  “Of course
.”

  “Lucas, I’ll man the store. Please see your sister home.”

  Savannah waited as Lucas removed his apron. She smiled at her father and walked outside as she heard her mother approaching. Lucas gripped her elbow and propelled her forward, slamming the store’s door shut behind them.

  “Let’s go, Sav. I wish there were more customers in the shop to prevent Father from receiving another verbal lashing from Mother.”

  “Why can’t she understand my desire to be away from Jonas?” Savannah said, sighing with relief when they slowed to a more sedate walk as they turned down Waltham Street. The trees provided a canopy of shade, and birds trilled overhead.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me how terrible it was?” Lucas asked, unable to hide the hurt from his voice. “I hate that he kept you locked in the house as though you were in a prison.” He paused, gripping her shoulders as he searched her eyes. “And the baby? He placed her in an orphanage?”

  Savannah closed her eyes for a moment, blinking away tears. “I thought no one would believe me. Mother would never let me speak a word against him, and I began to believe everyone would think it was my fault. And then, when I learned the baby lived, I worried you’d believe I was unhinged, like Jonas said, and that I should be placed in a mental institution.”

  “Why would you doubt Father and me? Why would you believe such things?” Lucas asked.

  “I chose to marry him. I could have left after … I realized how he was. But I stayed. I believed what he told me.” At Lucas’s inquisitive stare, she continued. “That whatever happened to me, I had provoked him to do it. That it was all my fault.”

  “You had to have known he was feeding you a pack of lies, Sav.”

  “Some part of me, deep down, did. But I was so afraid, all the time. You don’t know what it is to live your life like that.”

  “Are you safe now?” Lucas asked as he offered his elbow, and they began their slow walk toward the Public Garden and then to Sophronia’s house.

  “Yes. Sophie is powerful and fierce. She’ll not let anything happen to me.”

  “It seems strange you’d go to another woman rather than to your father and brother.”

  “Mother would never allow me to stay. And I think Jonas is afraid of Sophie. She’s one woman he can’t charm or intimidate. He doesn’t know what to do with her.”

  “Please tell me that you’ll call if you ever need me or Father.”

  “Of course.” After a moment Savannah asked, “Lucas, why is Mother so upset with me?”

  “Mother wants you to continue with your marriage so that she maintains her esteem with the grandparents. She hopes to receive a generous amount on their death if she does.”

  “That’s so … That’s so …” Savannah stammered, unable to think of an appropriate word.

  “Mercenary. Cruel. Selfish,” Lucas said. “Yes, all those things. And all could be applied to Mother. But their health has begun to fade, and she thinks that she will soon reap her just deserts, as she calls them.”

  “But for that to happen, I must continue to play the part for her.”

  “Exactly. And you couldn’t have chosen a worse time for your rebellion.”

  She turned to glare at Lucas but then smiled when she saw that he had a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

  “She tried to convince Father that the store was having financial difficulties due to your scandal. However, he is savvy enough to know it has nothing to do with it.”

  “What is causing trouble for the business, Lucas?”

  “Mother doesn’t like to admit that the store is suffering due to the new aboveground trolley line. It’s uglier than we thought it would be and creates a near-constant rumbling that patrons say precludes them from thinking clearly about their purchases.” He smiled at Savannah’s unladylike snort. “At any rate, due to it, there are now fewer people walking along the streets. Everything is darker. Fewer pay attention to our shop’s front window displays, and it’s harder to entice customers in.”

  “Besides the fact that fashion is changing, Lucas,” Savannah murmured. “People are purchasing more ready-to-wear clothes.”

  “I know,” Lucas said. “At any rate, none of this has to do with you and your decision to live the life you want.” He gripped her hands. “The life you deserve, Sav.”

  “Thank you, Lucas,” she whispered, before gripping his arm with such force he grimaced. “Will you do something for me?” At his nod, she said, “Will you go to City Hall where they keep the birth and death records, and look for my baby’s death certificate?”

  “Why? You know Adelaide didn’t die, Sav.” He brushed away her stray tear.

  “But I don’t know where she is! I’ve visited orphanages, and none have any record of her. I keep thinking, maybe she did die, and I’m deluding myself. If there’s a death certificate, that would mean she was gone, wouldn’t it?”

  Lucas’s jaw clenched, and Savannah flinched. “I’ll never forgive him. Not for what he did to you. Not for what he’s done to Adelaide, stealing months from you, her mother,” Lucas whispered, moving forward to grasp both of Savannah’s arms and meeting her eyes with a fiery intensity. “He lied to all of us. I’ve never seen Father as upset as these past months, watching you mourn Adelaide.”

  Savannah nodded, blinking rapidly, unable to forestall the shedding of tears. “I knew I couldn’t remember something from the birth, but, when I finally emerged from the drug-induced fog, I realized I remembered hearing her cry. That she wasn’t a stillbirth. I have to find her. Find out what happened to her.”

  “You feel strong enough to leave Mrs. Chickering’s? To venture forth each day in your pursuit?”

  “Brave enough, you mean?” Savannah asked with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ll always be afraid Jonas will find me. Attempt to force me back with him. But I’ve realized I can’t allow my life to be dictated by fear, Lucas. I want more than that.”

  “There’s the brave Savannah I know,” Lucas said with a hint of a smile, his glower fading. “As for your request, why don’t you look for the record yourself, Sav?”

  “The man working at the desk said a lady shouldn’t concern herself with such matters and should look to her husband for guidance in such a case. He refused to help me.”

  “If there is anything to be found, I’ll find it,” Lucas vowed before he pulled Savannah close for a tight embrace. “I hate that you suffered more than I’ll ever know.”

  Savannah stifled a sob and clung to him. “Thank you for believing me.”

  “Of course I believe you. You never lied before, Sav. Well, except to yourself.” He leaned away to meet her eyes, and his regret-filled smile made her cry harder. “Hush, don’t cry so, or that Chickering woman will think you’ve had a run-in with Jonas.”

  Savannah shuddered. “Not even in jest, Lucas. Will you visit me at Sophie’s? Come play for me?”

  “You’d like to hear my music?” Lucas asked, unable to hide the pleasure from his voice.

  “Yes, I’ve always loved it. I didn’t have enough sense to appreciate it until I’d moved out.”

  “I’d love to. I have missed you, sister,” he said, before he kissed her gently on her forehead. “Even when you visited, you seemed distant. Not at all like the Savannah of old.”

  “Well, I may never again be the pre-Jonas Savannah …”

  “No, you’re even better. Stronger and wiser.” He hugged her at Sophie’s door. “Never forget that, Sav. You might have changed due to your association with Jonas, but it hasn’t altered you irreparably.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “PLEASE, SIT WHILE I prepare us a cup of tea,” Florence said. She bustled around the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove, stirring the dregs of the ashes while adding a piece of new coal to rekindle the fire. She pulled out a teapot and two mugs, placing them on the table. “I’m afraid we don’t have any milk today,” Florence said as she placed the sugar bowl on the table.

  “Florence, please sit,” Savann
ah coaxed. “I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

  “You’re welcome, Savannah. I know that Jeremy would have been with us if he hadn’t received such a good commission.”

  “I’m happy for him that he did. He should have more to do in his day than escort women to orphanages on a wild chase.”

  Florence rose, filling the teapot with boiling water before placing it on the table to steep. She sat on a chair facing Savannah. “I just wish we’d been able to find your child, Savannah.”

  “I’m beginning to think she really did die. That everything Jonas told me about her was a mixture of half-truths, and I will never decipher truth from lie.” She bit her lip as she fought tears. “Even if she is alive, I have to accept I may never find her.”

  Her gaze became distant as she envisioned each trip to the different orphanages in Boston and the surrounding cities. She cringed as she recalled her inability to ward off a fleeting hope as she ascended the stairs outside each new orphanage, that this day’s orphanage would bring her resolution. Perhaps even a reunion with her daughter. The inescapable grief had continued to grow as, every time, her hopes were dashed, and her possibilities became more limited.

  Savannah shook her head and smiled sorrowfully at Florence. “As I feared, Lucas discovered there was no death certificate. Nothing corresponding to an Adelaide Montgomery. At the same time, Sophie’s contacts have yet to yield any information.” She played with the spoon in the sugar bowl. “I wonder what Jonas did to her.” She raised tormented eyes to Florence.

  Florence gripped her hand in an attempt to impart solace. “You must take heart that you have done all you can.”

  “But I lost so many months,” Savannah whispered as she brushed at tears on her cheeks. “It’s already the end of August. She’d turn one in November. I’ve lost so much time, Florence.”

  “Thanks to your husband. Do not blame yourself for mourning.” Florence studied her with wonder for a moment. “You don’t know what it means to have watched you these past weeks search for your daughter.” Florence glanced away, reaching toward the teapot to pour the tea.

 

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